Jump to content
UltravioletPhotography

Remembering Forgottonia--a (Mostly) UV Reminiscence


Recommended Posts

Between the Illinois and Mississippi rivers in western Illinois lies a land that has a curious history. It contains some of the richest farmland on earth; the terrain is flat and forgiving, and rainfall is generally adequate without being excessive. But isolated between two natural barriers, it was not settled as densely as neighboring areas throughout the 19th century, although the coming of railroads in the latter half of the 1800s provided some link with the outside world.

 

However, the shift to road transportation in the early and mid 20th century made circumstances less favorable. As passenger rail service was progressively abandoned, as well as freight service in many more rural areas, the rest of the country embarked on a massive road-building spree to accommodate the needs of cars and trucks. But in these 16 counties the road construction largely failed to happen, and the area slid into a kind of stasis, increasingly separated from the surrounding country and accessible only by a handful of decrepit ferries, rusting toll bridges, and a rabbit warren of narrow back roads, many still unpaved. A large portion of the younger population fled for better futures, and economic decline set in. In 1964, Carthage College packed up its entire campus from Hancock County and moved to Kenosha, Wisconsin.Coal mines in the northeastern part of the region gradually succumbed to cheaper competition elsewhere and shut down, removing another source of local employment.

 

The isolation deepened into the 1970s and 1980s as the Interstate highway system in its first iterations completely bypassed the area to the north and south. I-72 was built west to the Illinois River but construction of the bridge to cross the river was held up for decades by a combination of environmental and land disputes, so it remained a road to nowhere. Farther north, construction of a Chicago-Kansas City expressway through the area was repeatedly stymied by federal legislators unwilling to fund the venture.

 

The situation grew acute enough that local residents began to feel that the rest of the world had forgotten them. About 1970, a tongue-in-cheek plan was hatched by two leading locals, Jack Horn and John Armstrong. The area would secede from Illinois and perhaps the whole country, declaring itself the “Republic of Forgottonia.” Upon secession, the new republic would declare war on the US, then surrender and apply for foreign aid. As governor they recruited Neil Gamm, then a theater student at Western Illinois University. The capital of the republic was to be the tiny hamlet of Fandon in McDonough County, and an abandoned storefront was the official capital building. The official flag was a blank white rectangle, the flag of surrender. A number of county governments were persuaded to go along with the gag; Gamm dressed up in a suit and tie and posed in front of a couple of local landmarks, and a brief flurry of wider media attention ensued; I remember a bit of it myself growing up in St. Louis at the time, as some local newspapers covered the story.

 

In the succeeding four decades, much has changed for part of the area. Amtrak instated some minimal passenger rail service to Macomb in 1972, and this was later expanded. The area is now no longer as physically isolated as it was; many of the old toll bridges have gradually been replaced with modern concrete structures, and the ferries are largely a distant memory. Most of the roads are now paved, though the secondary routes are still narrow with rough surfaces. The Chicago-Kansas City highway was built--sort of (it is not a proper expressway but a highway with intersections and stop lights that narrows to two lanes through towns; it has never become the major interurban artery that was once hoped for and traffic remains light.) The trip from Chicago that formerly required six hours or more has been reduced to two. Farther south, the bridge over the Illinois River was finally built in 1988 and I-72 was completed across to Quincy on the Mississippi River.

 

In the larger towns such as Macomb and Mount Sterling a new prosperity has started to creep in, and Forgottonia has receded to the status of a quaint legend, a whimsical name for the local brew pub. But when one leaves the major settlements and explores the surrounding smaller towns and countryside, bits of the old Forgottonia are still to be seen and photographed. One sees it in downtown streets full of vacant buildings; in abandoned railroad stations; and in derelict churches, farm homes and other buildings out in the fields. Local photographers such as Bruce Morton and Jane Carlson have documented the area in more depth and with more insight than a mere visitor such as myself can hope to bring to the task, and I do not presume to match their work--during my own visit last May, my hope was more to see the area through fresh eyes, and perhaps to offer a somewhat offbeat perspective. Several camera and lens combinations were used to obtain what follows; I have used letter codes to denote these and a key is to be found at the end of this document.

 

Our exploration begins on a road just east of Ellisville, in Fulton County: the Fiasco Farm barn, which looms to the south of the road as one proceeds westward (C,D:)

 

1815555068_FiascoBarnUVIR.jpg.bc4bfded2e64539c9ed886925322be32.jpg

 

In better times, it bore a jaunty legend, FORGOTTONIA USA, painted above the doors, as seen here; but time has not been kind to this local landmark, and the letters are starting to fade; indeed, one word has been effaced, in front of the word FARM; what was it? The eye can no longer easily discern it, but UV photography can (A:)

 

1953183236_FiascoBarnUVLegendjexDSC00096.jpg.f35d09ff6928ce3d5280935d72275eba.jpg

 

the word was clearly FIASCO. (For those readers outside America, you may recognize this as the Italian word for flask; but in US vernacular, the word has taken on a rather different meaning.) Perhaps the owners eventually became embarrassed by such a name on their barn and sought to erase it. Who knows. But coming around to the west of the barn, one can see that the rear of the structure has collapsed--the barn is now just a teetering façade. Soon it will be only rubble and memories (G.)

 

2132011594_FiascoBarnjsmallex1.jpg.5c5333d98422e8e90028671214270ea1.jpg

 

In Hancock County a few miles off the highway lies the hamlet of Stilwell, a near ghost town which seems to have fallen on very hard times indeed. What passed for a main street here seems almost entirely abandoned, and disintegrating buildings are much in evidence, as seen in this photo (B:)

 

474197009_StilwelljsmallexDSC00045.jpg.f94d5f4f47c54e1ac73022ad3415e833.jpg

 

The most prominent structure here is an abandoned church, gradually disappearing into the vegetation (B:)

 

276893774_AbandonedChurchinStilwelljsmallexDSC00046.jpg.007fd441eb76fce5d4833c24478936e9.jpg

 

An IRG image provides a very different impression of this subject (E:)

 

738009263_AbandonedCHurchinStilwelljsmallexDSC00039.jpg.3e5c7381be1974cfec18f767c81f493d.jpg

 

A bit farther to the east, Plymouth has become something of a magnet for photographers due to the picturesque dilapidation surrounding the town square. As one approaches the square, an abandoned church guards the bottom of Charles Street (B:)

 

1571373518_StopFaithjsmallexDSC00069.jpg.d988af14177da487aaf3f81f80c65502.jpg

 

The street itself contains some interesting detail; the painted wall is photographed by almost all who visit, and I was no exception (B.)

 

1380258731_CharlesStreettriptych.jpg.5e42b2b355d35793e4979e4535e5109e.jpg

 

Entering the square, one gains a bit of an idea of its state from this panorama. A few businesses are still active, but most of the buildings are vacant (I:)

 

266674375_PlymouthSquarejsmallex13A.jpg.bbe283e1f4079e59f6783591377219c5.jpg

 

Detailed images show the situation more clearly (A:)

 

1891589696_PlymouthTownSquare1jsmallexDSC00060.jpg.01ffa221cb7a6fcab1cbaae4a123ac2d.jpg423541847_PlymouthTownSquare2jsmallexDSC00064.jpg.dd711bc6878d77941578315b52a35009.jpg675377978_PlymouthTownSquare3jsmallexDSC00067.jpg.e91123ead191712c8d476dae10b7d64d.jpg

 

One wonders what the building labeled “Opera House” really was; I doubt anyone was staging actual operas here.

 

Wandering across the county line into McDonough County, one encounters the old Colmar railroad depot. An active rail line still runs by it, but no trains have stopped here in many decades (B:)

 

647795350_OldColmarStationjsmallexDSC00072.jpg.22f830be22349649c877425bc863c1b7.jpg

 

Nearby is an old abandoned farmstead (C:)

 

1871102785_FarmsteadNorthofColmar1jsmallexDSC00073.jpg.61d8260ddf4dece859e0f712c0bbfeca.jpg

 

Farther north outside Macomb is this curious round barn, the paint gone except in the shadow of the eaves:

 

1569271866_RoundBarnjsmallexDSC00150.jpg.f57948b7d2b70012f010a5618d75239c.jpg

 

One must be cautious, however, in trying to shoehorn everything one sees into the Forgottonia narrative, as other factors may also be at play. Dilapidated farm buildings are common everywhere there is farmland, and do not necessarily indicate a distressed region. Sometimes an owner builds a completely new complex elsewhere on their property, not bothering to demolish the old. Sometimes a barn looks old and weathered, but still serves its purpose adequately. And sometimes individual property owners and their personal stories have more to do with a building’s fate than anything else. An example of this is a house in Bardolph:

 

197175989_OldDavesHousejsmallexDSC00093.jpg.6cbe78d82bd270f5cbc8e045b9de0092.jpg

 

Clearly it is abandoned, but it sports a relatively intact coat of titanium dioxide paint, which implies recent attention. And indeed, a local man informed me that the house had belonged to “Old Dave,” who had passed away and was no longer able to care for his abode. In this case, UV photography helped to uncover the nature of this situation.

 

Another factor to consider is that there are towns elsewhere in Illinois, far from the Forgottonia area, which have themselves fallen on notoriously hard times in more recent years. Danville and Cairo come particularly to mind here, and even the decline in Stilwell portrayed earlier may have had more to do with a crash in the farming economy in the 1980s than with any earlier issues.

 

On the other hand, the region’s marginal economic history likely made many towns more vulnerable to subsequent economic shocks and setbacks than they would otherwise have been. Rural depopulation is an issue all over the US, but it seems to have been especially severe here. As a photographer not familiar with all the details of every case, all one can do is record what one sees, and perhaps not dwell further on abandoned farm buildings.

 

Moving deeper into McDonough county, the town of Bushnell sports entire blocks of boarded and empty buildings, some of which still recall the area’s rich architectural heritage. My (white) rental car appears left of center in this Main Street panorama, next to the disused railroad station; the light standards on the sidewalk appear black-tipped, probably because UV-absorbing plastic was used for the light housings (H.)

 

1358778689_DowntownBushnelljsmallex23A.jpg.734c927a503ab96002fbe5593dd8f6fb.jpg

 

Detailed images show the buildings more clearly, including the old Rialto cinema, a curious homespun effort at Art Deco styling (B,A,A.)

 

2131789867_bushnellmain.jpg.9b97448ec8ab673e684d23e968bba590.jpg

 

In the middle photo, the windows on the ground floor look to have been replaced with polycarbonate, perhaps to discourage vandalism--this space may still be in use for some purpose. The mortar on the cinema’s brick façade is failing, and in not too many more years it will collapse.

 

Side streets of Bushnell offer similar vistas, as seen here (H:)

 

1012474307_BushnellSideStreetPanoramajsmallex28A.jpg.f901ec328c1d79612fb1c8400a6f34d4.jpg

 

There is also a Romanesque Revival apartment block nearby, still occupied, though it has obviously seen better days (C:)

 

2038809305_ApartmentsinBushnelljsmallexDSC00085.jpg.1392b5d857f87ebbda340014b182ba4f.jpg

 

In the northwest corner of the county is the village of Blandinsville, which also has some interesting architecture on its main thoroughfare (F,C:)

 

Blandinsville.jpg.0fb41ce8335f297de7c0510f1a1f5930.jpg

 

And finally, off to the south, the hamlet of Versailles has a similar appearance (C.)

 

52083768_MainStreetVersaillesjsmallexDSC00157.jpg.999892f065eab51290627e23bb85edaa.jpg

 

The rural nature of the area has kept development pressures at bay, and there are places in it of substantial natural beauty. Banner Marsh is one such area, offering unobstructed  wetland vistas (A,E:)

 

2108353468_BannerMarshjsmallexDSC00151.jpg.20433e0910d8cc8e15c9de5ed72e61e2.jpg1359566338_BannerMarshIRGjsmallexDSC00152.jpg.2b16e0d624cae5fb03ac2a1809ead572.jpg

 

Interesting sights also abound along the major rivers, such as this flooded backwater along the Illinois River (A,E:)

 

154536559_IllinoisRiverjsmallexDSC00155.jpg.8ce93f8b0c924f2f790436052bdb2771.jpg1190448900_IllinoisRiverjsmallexDSC00153.jpg.a8ad1775dfc71cc474f64e090f0580fa.jpg

 

I close with what may be a vision of the future. Illinois has become home to a number of major new generating facilities, including this wind farm north of Macomb, where giant turbines hum softly to themselves as they harvest the early summer breeze. Many more will likely be built in years to come. Perhaps clean energy will become part of the region's ticket back to prosperity (D.)

 

1668611653_WindFarmnearMacombjsmallexDSC00146.jpg.b51ca34b8e65c5f97268e51dd0184bcc.jpg

 

Technical Legend

 

A: Sony A900 camera, Steinheil 50mm lens, Baader U2 filter. Display intent BGR.

B: Sony A900 camera, Asahi 35mm lens, Baader U2 filter. Display intent BGR.

C: Sony A900 camera, Asahi 20mm lens, U360/S8612 filter. Display intent BGR.

D: Sony A900 camera, Steinheil 50mm lens, B+W 093 filter.

E: Sony A900 camera, Steinheil 50mm lens, Tiffen 12 filter. Pixelbender workup.

F: Minolta Autocord camera, Shanghai GP3 film developed in D-23, B+W 403 filter.

G: Minolta Autocord camera, Kodak Aerochrome 1443 film, Alpha 525LP dichroic filter.

H: Lomography Spinner camera, Ilford Delta 3200 film processed in Microphen, Baader U2 filter.

I: Lomography Spinner camera, Ilford Delta 3200 film processed in Microphen, B+W 403 filter.

Link to comment

Very interesting history.  

I was thinking with push to online jobs, a large solar panel and some satellite connected internet,  this could be an interesting place to escape to. But would need a source of food,  like some surviving grocery store or within reach of an Amazon warehouse. Maybe in the future people will settle in areas like this, but will still be hidden and you wouldn't know it, from looking in from the outside. 

Link to comment

This was fascinating! I especially enjoyed the “ghost sign” on the building — perhaps you recall my project to recover faded ghost signs, although this one seemed in good shape. 
 

Quote

About 1970, a tongue-in-cheek plan was hatched by two leading locals, Jack Horn and John Armstrong. The area would secede from Illinois and perhaps the whole country, declaring itself the “Republic of Forgottonia.” Upon secession, the new republic would declare war on the US, then surrender and apply for foreign aid.


 

Does anyone else remember the 1959 movie, The Mouse That Roared? Quoting the premise from Wikipedia,

Quote

The minuscule European Duchy of Grand Fenwick is bankrupted when an American company comes up with a cheaper imitation of Fenwick's sole export, its fabled Pinot Grand Fenwick wine. Crafty Prime Minister Count Mountjoy (Peter Sellers) devises a plan: Grand Fenwick will declare war on the United States, then surrender, taking advantage of American largesse toward its defeated enemies to rebuild the defeated nation's economy. Duchess Gloriana (also Sellers) is hesitant but agrees to the plan. Mild-mannered game warden Tully Bascomb (also Sellers) is charged as Field Marshal to lead the Grand Fenwick troops, aided by Sergeant Will Buckley (William Hartnell).

Awfully familiar. 

Link to comment

Love the photos and town history. Very informative post. Wish them luck. I've heard of the place, but never visited. I've been to Cairo, IL many times. 

 

Thanks for sharing,

Doug A

Link to comment

Clark, thank you for this wonderful and amazing documentary about Forgottonia. The photographs are stellar, the story is fascinating.

 

We used to have so many thriving small towns and villages in the US which are now abandoned. No more small economies are possible, I suppose. Some of those buildings appear as though they could still be very useful. 

Link to comment

Please sign in to comment

You will be able to leave a comment after signing in



Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...